Suffer the Little Children…
© Christmas 2006 Crackerwriter
When he was only fourteen, at the start of the new school year, Antonio thought Nathan was the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen. Secretly he watched him during their school day, both during class and in break times. He even saw him walk part of the way to and from school. Antonio was deeply troubled though. He knew he wasn’t supposed to have feelings like he did for this other boy. Didn’t the pastor at the church curse such people as loved their own sex, saying they were an abomination in the sight of God? That worried him a lot. Was this happening to him?
Nathan’s family had moved into the area during the holidays it seemed, and he was put into Antonio’s year at the school he went to. Ever since he was about eleven and a half to twelve, his body had been changing. He had grown hair where there had been no sign of hair before. The sight of some boys made him get painfully stiff sometimes. It was hell in the showers after a sports period. If he even looked at certain boy’s bodies, he knew what would happen. Then he’d have to dash into the toilet. If it was true what they’d told him, he’d be totally blind by the time he was sixteen. Then one day it got even worse. Nathan decided to be friends with him.
It had started on the way home. He turned around having dropped a book and saw Antonio watching him.
“Watcha doin’ Antonio? Pervin’ my ass?” He doubled back towards him. “Ha! Look you’re all stiff too. That proves it!” He grinned widely, whilst Antonio blushed to the roots of his hair. “Only jokin’. Mine does that quite often too. Always at the wrong moment as well.” He was only joking? He didn’t really think…? “Where do you live anyway? I never normally see you.”
“I turn left at the bottom of the road when you turn right. I only live a short way down from there. But the funny thing is, when I look up the road when I go in our house, you’ve always disappeared.”
Nathan laughed. “You know that funny little side road on the left a few yards from the junction? We live up there. Still I’ll walk with you to the end of the road if you like. I suppose you’re mum’s expecting you in then?”
“No, there’s no one in except me for an hour and a half. Dad gets back about ten minutes before mum.”
“Really? Me too! Well an hour and a quarter anyway,” he said, checking his watch. “Wanna pop round for a bit? No one has to know.”
“Well, I guess…?”
“Come on then. Maybe you will get to see a bit of this butt for real! I have to change. You don’t mind do you?”
“Er, no… why should I mind? We’re both boys are we?” They got to the junction and crossed the road. Soon they were at Nathan’s house and went in.
“Come on, up here…” It seemed Nathan was half stripped by the time he walked into his bedroom, and was already unbuckling his belt. Antonio almost swooned to see his naked torso. “Come on Antonio, you might as well get naked too. It’s what you’d like isn’t it?” He touched Antonio in places that he knew he didn’t stand a chance of his body not betraying him, so within a minute they both stood naked. Antonio had no idea what was going to happen as Nathan took charge and led him to the bed. Nathan had evidently had previous experience with other boys, but that didn’t stop the feelings Antonio now had for him.
Nathan taught him to kiss. His very first real kiss, and it was with the boy of his dreams. He ached in his loins and knew that he desired the most forbidden fruit. But Nathan had all that thought out, and Antonio boiled over, deeply buried as Nathan rode him, and was fascinated how big Nathan got as his body reacted to Antonio’s own not so small intrusion. He was completely unprepared when Nathan rolled him over and worked grease into him. He screamed into the pillow as he found out just how big Nathan was, but then gradually the pain turned to longing as the other boy tormented him by repeatedly plunging into him and then pulling out until at last he was crying and begging for him to leave it in and finish him off.
Then he was turned over and his body bent in two as his knees rested back by his shoulders and Nathan pushed again. This time the feeling was different and he couldn’t get enough of the feelings that were coursing through him and he watched, helpless as he grew again and spilt himself all over his stomach, at the same moment as he felt Nathan’s hot warmth spread inside him in long spurts.
He didn’t resist the long, long kiss that came afterwards that made it all worthwhile. He heard the words, “You’re mine now. I’m going to do that again and again and again. And you want me to, don’t you? You like me inside you don’t you?”
He couldn’t believe it was his voice he heard begging Nathan not to take it out but to do it again, pleading, “Yes, yes, yes, I’m yours Nathan,” as he clung to the other boy.
Later as he walked down the road, he knew what he’d become. Nathan’s boyfriend. A slave to boy sex. And he was what he feared. Gay. It went all against all he’d been taught at church; the pastor all but raved against homosexuals, saying God always hated them. How depraved and dirty they were, corrupting each other and spreading diseases amongst their own kind. How they’d be condemned to eternal damnation without God’s love. He cried softly as he walked.
Over the following weeks, the bad feelings conflicted with the intense feelings that sex gave him. Nathan certainly kept him from needing sex with anyone else, even his own hand. Every time he came home he was drained, unable even to get aroused for hours. He used him unmercifully too, insisting that if Antonio really loved him, he would give him satisfaction using only his mouth and lips. And so Antonio had willingly done it until he was so addicted to having Nathan in his mouth that he always made it part of their routine foreplay.
* * * * *
It went on, week after week, Antonio now a complete slave to Nathan’s sexual desires, craving his attention more and more, and then having to deal with the mental guilt that riddled him as a matter of routine every time he walked home.
But it was the conflict between his physical needs and the torrent of threats of retribution from the pastor that bothered him most. He didn’t know what to do anymore or who he could turn to for help. He just knew it was getting to the stage where he couldn’t handle this conflict of interests much longer. Then something happened that made all that problem irrelevant.
He was round at Nathan’s place as usual, but just lately he had grown some more and it had got a lot bigger. This seemed to please Nathan no end, and he got Antonio more and more frequently to pleasure him, with Antonio pinning him to the bed for a change. This was one of those times, and Nathan was gratefully accepting every bit that Antonio could offer him. The only thing that was different was that Nathan’s mother came home much earlier than expected, and just stared horrified at Antonio pumping urgently into her son.
She let out an ear-splitting scream right at the moment of Antonio’s main release, and for an instant, both boys turned and stared in horror at her framed in the doorway. Of course, Antonio got all the blame. It was all hushed up for Nathan’s sake, and the family quickly moved again. But Antonio was not so lucky. He was ostracised at school, so that it got so that he dared not go anymore, for fear of being beaten half to death by the group of homophobes who seemed to follow him everywhere. His family never spoke to him anymore, and people looked away as they passed him in the street.
Eventually it got to Christmas week. Some Christmas this would be for him. He would go to the service on Christmas Eve and throw himself on the mercy of the church. Surely they would do something for him if he were to repent his sins? So Christmas Eve he went to the church and settled against the wall by the gate to wait and shelter from the falling snow. It was so cold; and he was exhausted from all the walking he’d done, he decided to take a short nap. There was plenty of time.
By the time the people came for the service, snow had all but covered the still, stiff, body and no one noticed him. People came and went, and that night as all others, his parents didn’t care if he was in his bed or not.
Christmas Day dawned sunny and bright. The snow had fallen deeply. The mound that had been Antonio lay undisturbed as yet. People filled the church. Happy smiling people, thinking of the meal to follow the service and the opening of gifts that would follow. They had sung their first hymn as the figure in an intensely black hooded cloak, lifted the rigid inert form and brushed some of the snow off him, until his deathly white frozen features could be distinguished.
The pastor was giving full vent to his warnings of leading a godly life when the main church door burst open and an icy blast seemed to sweep the length of the church. The tall impressive black-cloaked figure took two paces inside. The doors rebounded against their stops and slammed shut behind him. The whole congregation could see what he was carrying.
“Did you all abandon him, that he died sleeping by the gate last night? Does no one care for him?” Antonio’s parents stayed strangely quiet, not even acknowledging their son. “Will no one love this boy?” He carried the still form to the front of the church.
“Yes, you all know, don’t you? You so-called righteous people with all your little secrets that you keep to yourselves and never confess. And you make out you are so good that God will welcome you into his arms when your time comes? You know, I seem to remember that it says somewhere in your great book that love is the most important thing. Am I wrong? Who remembers the words ‘and the greatest of these is love.’? Now there’s a thing wouldn’t you say, pastor?” he roared, turning and staring hard at the pastor.
“Just who do you think you are sir, that you come bursting into my church…?”
“Your church?” roared the stranger. “Yes I suppose that’s the best description for it; it’s certainly not God’s church, is it, with a multitude of sinners like yourselves? I ask you again, who would love this boy? All he did wrong was to love another boy. But at least he showed him love. ‘Love thy neighbour as thyself’. Anyone remember that one? Will no one give him a last chance and love him?”
There was not a sound in the whole building, such that you could even hear the wind whistle gently round the corners of the bell tower.
“I tell you what. Let’s give him one last chance. I’m feeling kind of generous today, being the day it is of course.” He walked to the simple altar table and sweeping one arm across it sent everything on it flying. He set the prone stiff body down on it. In the warmth of the church steam began to rise from it.
“Well I guess it’s only fair to offer him a try. After all it is his birthday, and he reckoned he loved everyone didn’t he? Theoretically he should do a lot better than you lot.”
Now the strange thing was that while he had been talking and facing the table, there seemed to be more and more steam rising from the frozen body. Now it seemed to be virtually pouring from it and forming a cloud around the table.
“There you are you see, results at last.” A figure in a white cloak seemed to be rising from the mist, and the body twitched as it gave a cough. “Ok brother, over to you. It’s your birthday after all, and who am I to spoil your party? He’s not one of mine. I couldn’t possibly take him back with me; he so full of love it would put completely the wrong sort of vibes around my place.”
This time as he whirled around they all shrieked as they saw the red glowing eyes and the gust of draft from his cloak brought the unmistakeable smell of sulphur all around the body of the church, and several people began to cough and choke.
“Still now, there must be some compensation for me? Ah yes. Now pastor, you seem to be a man who is full of lies and tells it like a fake story. I think I fancy your black heart instead.”
The pastor let out a shriek of pure terror as the devil plunged his hand inside his chest and squeezed his heart, then withdrew it without leaving a mark.
“There you go pastor, now I have your evil soul. Let’s see how you manage without that! And the rest of you get one more chance before I decide to come back for the rest of you.” He disappeared in a blast of icy air and a gust of sulphur. The pastor collapsed lifeless to the floor.
The white cloaked and hooded figure then asked in a small still voice, “Who will love this boy?” holding a puzzled looking but calm Antonio before him.
“I will.” A man stepped into the aisle. “I never did believe in this crap that God would hate anyone, anyway.
The small voice replied, “I don’t, and you are a man of kindness…”
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